The One With The Winchesters
by ImpulsiveWriter321
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester are some of strongest and clever hunters that the supernatural world has ever seen. And there was a reason they got that way. A series of one-shots following the boys are they grow up with their father. Some stories are happy, some sad, some brutal and bloody, and others in-between. Rated M simply for safety of blood and gore in some chapters.


**Well, well, well, it has been a WHILE since I have been on here. Honestly, the last time I probably posted on this site had to have been…four years ago? Mayyybbeee five?**

 **Anyway, I recently graduated from college (WHOOP WHOOP) and now I have a butt load of free time on my hands as I work my full time person job. So I figured, "Why not catch up on the HUNDREDS of shows that I couldn't watch while I was in school?" The first one that popped up in my Netflix? Good old** _ **Supernatural**_ **. I squealed my little squeal that only the small little girl in my 22 year old body could muster and I quickly got engrossed again and found myself already into the third season, reliving all the good jokes and tearful episodes. I'm pretty sure I stopped watching around season 9, so I have some catching up to do before I'm in to all new stuff, so I apologize if something I write is absolutely way off from the plot of the show now, haha. But anyways, this is all going to be out of the main plot anyway, so it won't factor in much.**

 **As I was watching seasons one and two, I couldn't help but remember how I loved watching Sam, Dean and John together, even though all three of them had their Winchester dickish moments. So I figured, I have a giant 300 writing prompt book at home, I could delve into that for the boys. Hence, here I am. XD**

 **Disclaimer for the whole thing: All of these prompts are given to me by Piccadilly Publishing, but all chapters and characters unknown to the** _ **Supernatural**_ **show are mine. I do not own or gain any income, directly or otherwise, by** _ **Supernatural**_ **or these writings.**

 **PS. I always make a Google playlist of songs that I listen to when writing, so I have a Supernatural one if anyone is interested in listening to it. If you'd like, I'll make it public on Google.** **Enjoy, and please feel free to leave comments and reviews! They always make the world go 'round.**

…

 **Prompt: What is your favorite way to spend a lazy day?**

 **Dean – 12 Sam – 8**

It wasn't often that they scored a day like this.

The sun was shining down on the beautiful July day, but the slight breeze took the bite out of the sun's rays. The town they were staying in had been quiet or at least as quiet as anywhere close to Las Vegas can be. John had caught wind of a shifter bringing havoc to the gambling capitol of the states, so he drove the boys as quickly as possible to Nevada. As much as John wanted to get going with the hunt, he did have a slight mind not to hole Dean and Sam in a motel room in the middle of Las Vegas. He didn't need to worry about the shifter _and_ slime balls being near his sons. Pulling over in Logandale, he quickly got the boys settled in a room and promised them in a weeks' time he'd be back. After the standard checklist, John left the boys and headed toward Vegas.

Dean had been a bit worried about his father alone in Vegas. Their father had only started leaving them alone recently but he knew that John had a particularly difficult run in with a vampire on their last hunt, so he was a bit moody. He never considered his father a gambler, but he had watched him drink enough alcohol to make him one for a night or two. John must have sensed his worry, however, as before he left he knelt to his level and stared him dead in the eyes.

"When I get back, Dean, we'll do something special. Maybe for Sammy's birthday, huh? We didn't get the chance back in May."

Dean had nodded and then quickly flipped the chain on the door once his dead left. That was six days ago, and they were expecting John to come home at any time. The boys had spent their time scarfing down mac and cheese, watching television, and always keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. He had prepped himself for what felt like the thousandth time for an anxious and bored little brother, so he was pleasantly surprised when he caught his little brother in a good mood. He smirked as he watched Sammy humming to himself as he flipped through the yellowing pages of a book that he had read a hundred times over.

Dean had flipped through all of the crappy channels too many times to count so he flipped the television off and flipped over on the couch to stare at Sammy at the table.

"Is the ending really any different then the last time you read it, Sammy?"

Sam barely looked over the top of the book and gave Dean his signature bitch face.

"It's a good book, Dean. Besides, what else am I going to do?"

"I dunno. Read a different one?"

Sam scoffed. "What other one? I've only got this one and the two others."

Dean frowned a little and his eyes glanced quickly at his duffle sitting on the bed. He had spent _months_ saving up some money so that he could get Sammy a new book for his birthday. Unfortunately, it had been hunt after hunt for the past couple of months and Dean hadn't gotten the chance to bring Sam somewhere so he could pick out a new one. Maybe when his dad got back he would be in a good mood and would take them out to get one.

Dean left Sam to his book and pulled the shades back on the window. Seeing the sunshine and the large grassland next to the motel's parking lot, Dean's eyes widened and a smile set itself on his face.

"Sammy, I know what we can do."

"Hmm?"

"Let's go play catch," Dean responded, leaving the window and plopping his hands on either side of Sam.

"Catch?" Sam asked, finally lowering his book. "Like as in, you throw a ball and I catch sort of catch?"

"The very same. Come on, I've got that old baseball in my duffle," Dean encouraged.

"Why do you have a baseball?" Sam asked, as he turned to watch Dean rummage around in his duffle.

"Stole it from the last school we went to. I really hated the gym teacher," he smirked as Sam shook his head. Finally, Dean's fingers closed around the tattered baseball and he held it up in the air triumphantly. "Ah ha!"

"Are you sure we should do this?" Sam asked. He had slid off his chair and Dean could see the slight excitement behind his hazel eyes.

"Why shouldn't we? Is it a crime to play catch?"

"Well, no. But dad said we shouldn't leave the room unless we had to."

"Oh come on, Sammy, we're not even leaving the motel grounds. Our door is in sight. And besides," Dean leaned down and grabbed his knife from the stained nightstand. "I'll have this bad boy."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, fine. But if you deck it straight for my face I swear I'll kick you in the balls."

"Rude, little brother," Dean tutted as he quickly doubled checked the salt lines on the windows. Sam opened the front door and after a quick look around the motel parking lot he held the door open for Dean. He couldn't help but feel a small amount of pride at his brother picking up on the safety habits of their job. Well, their _father's_ job. Which was quickly turning into their job. Yet, another part of Dean wished that Sam never had to.

"Are you coming or what?" Sam sighed, his foot tapping. A clear sign that the youngest Winchester was excited and impatient.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a bunch."

Dean tossed the ball up and down in his hand as they walked over to the grass. Sam was blabbering on about his book and how he hoped that the next school they went to had some sort of book report project so he could do his on that book. Dean shook his head.

"Only you would be excited about a book report."

"Not excited, just prepared. I know exactly what I could write about."

Dean rolled his eyes and fixed his fingers around the ball. "Hey, Sammy – catch!"

With that he tossed the ball forward towards the grass.

"Hey! No fair!" Sam cried as he ran to grab the ball. Dean laughed as he watched his little brother stumble over and scoop down to pick up the baseball. His brother was getting faster and stronger with all the training that their father had them do, but he was still a little kid and his face still had his baby fat on it.

"Come on, you gotta get your exercise."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Little Sammy grinned as he brought his arm back and threw the ball back towards Dean. Dean caught it with ease and hid the slight grimace as the ball slapped into his hand. _Damn,_ he thought, _he's getting strong._

The boys lost track of how long they were throwing the battered ball around. It had been a _long_ while since they had been able to do something so simple. While Dean kept an eye around the people that walked by and the cars that he saw, just in case, he let everything else fade away. To everyone else, they looked like two normal boys that were enjoying the sunshine of the day. In retrospect, he probably should have heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pull into the parking lot or seen his father stepping out of the driver seat.

The boys were laughing as Sam threw the ball slightly over Dean's head when Sam finally spotted their father leaning against the Impala, a rare smile gracing his face.

"Dad's back!"

Dean looked up from grabbing the ball out of the grass and automatically stood straighter. Sam ran past him and trotted up to their father.

"Did you get it? Are you okay? Did you -"

"Whoa there kiddo," John chuckled as Sam ran his rapid fire questions. "Yes, I'm just fine and yes, I got it."

Dean came up behind Sam with an infectious grin on his lips. "You're back early."

"Yeah, I for once caught a lucky break," John smiled back, reaching forward to ruffle Dean's hair. "You two look like you're having fun."

Dean's smile fell a bit. "I hope you don't mind, sir, we figured since it was daylight and there were people around it'd be okay – "

"Not an issue at all Dean," John interrupted, trying to ignore the flash of guilt that ignited in his stomach. His boys shouldn't have to feel bad for having some fun once and a while. "Looks like you boys are getting some arms on 'ya."

"Dean's been teaching me tricks," Sam smiled.

"Oh yeah?" John asked, giving Dean a small half grin.

"Yeah, dad, you should see him. It almost hurts when you catch his throws now," Dean offered.

"Almost? It so does, I saw you wince once or twice." Sam retaliated.

"I did not –"

"Did to –

"Did not –"

"Okay, okay," John laughed, snatching the ball from Dean's hand. "Only one way to prove this theory. Go get it, Sam!"

John lobbed it over the parking lot and into the grass, impressing both the boys with how far it went. Sam took off and John found his eyes widening at how fast his youngest was getting. He didn't quite catch the ball, but he was close. He stood up with it in his hand, twirling it around as if he wasn't exactly sure what his father wanted him to do. Dean followed John as they walked back over the grass and John held up his hand for Sam to throw it back. Sam's face broke out in a giant smile and he quickly stuck his little tongue out to concentrate on throwing it directly to his father. He took a quick step back and chucked it. John caught it easily but there was no mistaking the slight wince on his face.

"Ha, I told you Dean!" Sam yelled victoriously. John laughed as Dean rolled his eyes. John looked over at Sam and gave him a quick smirk before taking a few large steps backward and throwing the ball toward Dean without any warning.

"Whoa, hey!" Dean exclaimed as the ball whizzed past his left shoulder. Sam laughed, and John couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his boys so relaxed. When _he_ felt so relaxed. He wished they could have more moments like this, where his boys could just be…boys. He figured they could use a little break, so the three spent the better part of an hour throwing the ball around. Once the sun started to go down, John pulled his exhausted boys in for some dinner. Sam went through the door first, sweaty but happy. Before John could follow his youngest into the motel room, Dean grabbed his wrist.

"Hey dad?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

Dean let a soft smile reach his eyes. "We don't have to do anything more special. This was special enough."

With that he followed his brother inside to fight for the first shower. John bit the inside of his cheek to keep the tears back that were threatening to pop up. He made a promise from that day on to keep himself involved in the boy's lives, even if all it took was a little dingy baseball.

…

 **And there we go! Man it feels good to be writing again – it's practically what I went to school for and I barely get to do it anymore, haha. As always, let me know what you think!**


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